Page 2160 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1
P. 2160
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
If any power pities wretched tears,
To that I call! What, wouldst thou kneel with me?
Do then dear heart, for heaven shall hear our prayers, [210]
Or with our sighs we’ll breathe the welkin dim,
And stain the sun with, fog, as sometime clouds
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
MARCUS
O brother, speak with possibility,
And do not break into these deep extremes.
T IT US
Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
Then be my passions bottomless with them.
MARCUS
But yet let reason govern thy lament.
T IT US
If there were reason for these miseries,
Then into limits could I bind my woes; [220]
When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o’erflow?
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Threat’ning the welkin with his big-swoln face?
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
I am the sea; hark, how her sighs doth blow;
She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
Then must my sea be movèd with her sighs;
Then must my earth with her continual tears
Become a deluge, overflowed and drowned:
For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, [230]
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave, for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand.
MESSENGER
Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
